


side by side and still and cold

by autoclave (hongsan)



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Unresolved Emotional Tension, its just sad, lapslock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-18 13:54:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18700936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hongsan/pseuds/autoclave
Summary: he doesn’t think he’s meant to hear seonghwa’s resigned sigh





	side by side and still and cold

its a gnawing feeling. a weird sort of pain, usually dull and achy, washing over everything.

sometimes the realization of being lonely, makes that pain sharp, harsh, biting, the dull ache turning into almost panic. suddenly the loneliness is way more than just that, transforming into all consuming dread.

it always hits late at night, when hongjoong’s restless and staring up into the darkness, listening to seonghwa’s breathing next to him. 

in and out, even and deep, should be relaxing,  _ should  _ lull hongjoong to sleep.  _ should. _ but he lays on his back, something akin to bitterness rising in his throat.

_ lonely _

the word itself sounds weighted with sorrow.

hongjoong tries to find comfort in seonghwa’s peaceful presence next to him. curls up on his side and presses his face into seonghwa’s back, the scent of his laundry detergent faint on his shirt. tries to argue with the loneliness, remind himself that he’s  _ not  _ alone, seonghwa’s  _ right  _ there. asleep and peaceful.

sometimes it works. the gentle movement of seonghwa’s back with each breath making hongjoong feel vaguely okay. the shifting of bodies as seonghwa sleepily realizes that hongjoong is not in his arms, and he wraps him up in them, mumbling words of affection. and hongjoong feels satisfied, with the weight of seonghwa’s arms draped over him, face pressed into his hair.

sometimes it makes the feeling worse, knowing hes fast asleep next to him, without a clue to the thoughts and hurt that just won’t let hongjoong sleep. he’ll pull hongjoong into his arms, with the sleepy muttering, words of “come here” and “i love you” but for whatever reason, they feel insincere and hongjoong still feels the weight of loneliness crushing him.

the latter happens more often than not.

the bitterness turns into anger.

hongjoong shuts his eyes tightly, begging for sleep

—

“are you okay?”

hongjoong stares intently into his cup, full of dark, bitter coffee. he wraps his hand around the mug, heat warming his palm. his mouth feels dry.

“are you okay?” seonghwa asks again, placing his hand on hongjoong’s wrist. it’s a gentle motion, attempting to convey comfort, hongjoong  _ knows  _ that,  _ knows _ that he’s trying to care.

hongjoong jerks his hand away and the coffee sloshes in his cup, droplets spilling on the table.

“sorry,” hongjoong mutters.

“if—” seonghwa pauses, and hongjoong can visualize his expression. concern, evident in the way his brows were drawn together, eyes intently on hongjoong, ready to listen, ready to help anyway he can. hongjoong scratches at the wooden table with his nails, intently focused on the spot instead of looking up at seonghwa. seonghwa keeps going. 

“if you don’t want to talk that’s fine.”

he does.

“i just—” another pause, an attempt to word it  _ right _ . always trying. “i get worried and i want to help. if i can.”

he can’t.

“thanks,” is all hongjoong says instead, drawing his own arms around him, eyes never meeting seonghwa’s.

he doesn’t think he’s meant to hear seonghwa’s resigned sigh

—

there are some days where hongjoong sits in seonghwa’s lap and kisses him breathless, need for affection burning through him, and the closeness feels satisfying, puts out the fire and makes him feel warm, wanted, and loved.

there are some days that they sit on the couch in quiet comfort, hongjoong’s head in seonghwa’s lap with seonghwa carding through his hair and it fills hongjoong with joy he longs for.

“i love you,” seonghwa will whisper, kind and soft, sometimes amidst kisses or just to break the silence. he’ll say it, like he can’t stop saying enough of it, heart spilling over with love and hongjoong  _ feels _ that, feels the smile against his own lips as seonghwa whispers it again.

“i love you too” hongjoong will respond, feeling as close to whole as possible in that moment.

there are more days where hongjoong feels  _ wrong _ , feels wrong when seonghwa holds him, feels wrong in the way that makes him want to shrink away and  _ hide _ . and he does, locks himself away alone in the dark, trying to find words to even begin to explain anything. 

he feels undeserving of love, but wants it desperately, wants it more than anything else, but when seonghwa reaches out, it stings and feels like seonghwa doesn’t mean it, he just feels  _ sorry _ for him, and if he cared, he’d do something about all the pain hongjoong feels before it happens.

unfair.

unreasonable.

he knows it is.

he can’t stop thinking it.

“i love you,” seonghwa says, quietly, whispered into the tense air between them. hongjoong swears he hears bitterness in his throat too.  


hongjoong wraps his own arms around himself, suddenly cold.

he doesn’t answer.

seonghwa stops saying it.


End file.
